Spur of the moment
by Celestial-moon-fire
Summary: It started when Canada was seperated from the group. It need a title as well.
1. Seperated

It's an AU where they aren't countries but I don't want to use human names because they don't all have official ones. I read a story about vampires on live journal where they did this and it was easier to figure who was who for those without human names, and if I looked for my own I;d take forever. Yep.

* * *

"No, no!" Canada cried in frustration, pounding his fist against the rubble, wincing when a sharp bit stuck in his hand. "This... this can't! It's not fair..." He bit his lip to keep sound from escaping as he pulled the rock from his hand and wiped it on his pants. Straining his ears, he listened for either voice from France or Seychelles, hoping they;d heard him, but nothing came. There was no sound save for his uneven breathing and a few rocks tumbling to the stone tunnel floor.  
He waited in silence as his breathing calmed down, hoping somehow they'd break through the rubble and get him out. Sadly, nothing happened in the four minutes he'd dared to wait. "This isn't fair..." He mumbled again, flicking his flash light on and moving the yellowed beam around the tunnel. As the light passed over the curved ceiling, he caught glimpses of blood spatters and bits of flesh and assorted entrails hanging down. Then the smell hit, causing him to gag and double over, sure he'd spew the contents of his stomach over the rough ground.  
Holding a hand firmly against his mouth, he waited for the wave of nausea to pass. When it finally subsided, he spat the watery fluid from his mouth, wiping across his lips with the back of his hand. He steeled himself for the grisly sight and straightened his back, checking his gun nervously. Canada tool a step forward, forcing himself to stay calm. Usually he had France and Seychelles watching the front, and now he was alone...  
_Clang-_  
"Ah-!" Canada nearly screamed, twisting his waist in order to see behind him, where the sound came from. Nothing behind him. Further investigation by flash light showed a car mirror had fallen against anther car. "N-nothing..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearing the corners of his eyes and pushing his glasses up against his face. It sucked being partially blind during the zombie apocalypse he briefly thought, continuing slowly. He encountered nothing for almost an hour as he navigated the tunnel, dread growing with each step. As he paused to decided which tunnel he should go down at the latest fork, the sound of coughing reached his ears. Was someone else down there with him? Another survivor?  
He followed the sound of the coughing, on the lookout for the other person.  
"Hey, is anyone there?" He called softly, peering into a car window as he passed, shuddering at the half-mangled corpse of a woman. Just as the car was nehind him, a sound caught his attention, causieng him to turn again.  
Something slimy suddenly wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms. Another joined it around his throat, tightening and pulling him back. Canada thrashed, unable breathe. His back scraped against rough stone and sharp gravel as he moved back, shredding through his shirt and skin. "L-let go-" he barely managed to choke out, wincing as the bond tightened. His head bumped hard against a wall and he realized he was being pulled over a concrete roadblock.  
Black spots danced across his vision. He was sure to pass out if he wasn't released soon. Twisting his body with all his strength, he managed to turn onto his stomach, catching glimpses of gore-splattered shoes. Finally he realized what had him caught, though he'd never seen one before. It was most definitely a Smoker. A new wave of panic coursed through his at the realisation and he dug the tips of his shoes into the gravel, trying to resist.  
It was useless, he also thought as the same time he performed the action. From reading documents hidden in safe houses, that was how Canada and his group knew if you encountered a Smoker on your own, you were as good as dead. And Canada was as good as dead now, separated from his team. 'I won't go down without a fight, at least!' Canada thought, thrashing against the tongue despite the horrible light-headed feeling he had. It made him want to vomit again, but with the tongue constricting his throat, he was lucky he could even strain the slightest amount of air through his lungs at all.  
A shot rang out and suddenly the pressure around his chest and neck was gone. Canada coughed, feeling around his neck. He could feel something wet and warm. He wanted to stand, but his legs wouldn't seem to work. Instead he managed to push himself up, coughing again as something new was sucked through his lungs. The blackness finally ebbed away, and he could make out a short figure approaching through thick green smoke.  
Maybe France and Seychelles had found him after all? He squinted, realizing that his glasses were gone. A fit of coughing claimed his time shortly. He was afraid he might hurt something as hard as it was, and to his dismay, spots were returning to his vision.  
As the blackness again flowed over his line of sight, the figure held seen knelt beside him. Through t he smoke and the darkness he could barely make out any features, save for long hair pulled into twin braids, like Seychelles always wore. Another figure whom he assumed was France stood behind her, though he seemed taller than usual.  
"Nnn... Papa...?" He moaned quietly as the ground dissapeared from beneathe him. Then his eyes finally closed, hoping he wasn't going to regret passing out when he woke up.


	2. Are you off your bloody onion?

"Hey, England!" America called, waving his hand as he ran down the hill. England turned to greet him as usual, eyes widening and a gasp escaping as he saw America trip and land on him, eliciting quiet groans off pain when he realized where America's knee landed.  
"Are you of your bloody onion?" England yelled, shoving the other man off him and curling into a ball shape.  
"Ah, sorry England." America reached to pat his shoulder but received a glare and thought better of it.  
"Leave before I can walk again, else I'll return the favour." England growled, wincing again as a new wave of pain coursed through him.  
"But England! We found another survivor! I thought you;d want to kno-"  
"New survivor?" As if the pain had melted away, England was on his feet, shaking America by the shoulders. "What does he look like?" America grabbed both of England's wrists in order to stop the shaking.  
"I haven't seen him yet, but they say he's a blonde."  
"Blonde male... Do you think?" England shook his head, It wasn't possible. "I want to see him. Where is he?"  
"This way, back up the hill." America replied, turning his gaze on the steep incline.  
"The hill?" England groaned, the pain returning. With a shrug, America started the climb, telling England to hurry up.

**-**

Canada moaned softly, turning his head and coughing again. His throat was horribly dry, feeling almost like paper, and his chest hurt. His neck too, he realized when he trued to tun it to the other direction. A whisper reached his ear and he spent a few moments trying to remember how to open his eyes.  
"Nnnn... S-sey-" he attempted to call his sister's name assuming she was there, but his call was cut off by more coughing.  
"Shh, don't say anything." The voice, once a whisper, was now louder. Finally his eyes peeled open and a fuzzy outline of a woman appeared in front of him. He realized instantly this was not his sister, but an older woman with brown hair.  
"You're a little messed up. I wouldn't strain myself if I were you." She said, pressing a palm against his chest when he moved to sit up.  
Canada nodded painfully. "I see you follow instructions better than some." She smiled. "My name is Hungary." Canada nodded. "That Smoker almost had you. It's too dangerous to travel alone these days." She said as she reached over him for something on a table and began to unravel a long trail of bandages.  
"You aren't fatal, but that was extremely luck on your part. The cut was merely centimetres away from the vein in your neck, according to Lithuania. We're worried you might have fractured something, but without the right equipment we can't be sure." She explained the full extent of his injuries, making him wince every here and now. He was surprised he was even in one piece after that little showdown.  
After talking about his injuries, she went to bring him a drink of water. It felt like the coldest, freshest water in the world despite being warm and murky. He tried his hand at speaking again, finding the words able to come out a bit easier.  
"So, now you feel better, mind telling me your name?"  
"Canada..."  
Several more, simple, questions later and Hungary told him he needed to rest. She left him alone to his thoughts. According to her, France and Seychelles weren't the ones who saved him, which left him wondering who it was. He asked, but received no answer; only a smirk and a new question.  
He was going to need to identify his saviours and thank them the first chance he got. And then he'd need to find France and Seychelles. 'Have they found the safe room, I wonder...?'  
He shook his head. Of course they had. They didn't need him to get to the safe room. Canada held on to that thought as he drifted off like instructed.

**-**

"So? Is it him?" Hungary noted the limp which England seemed to have acquired. When she questioned him, he waved her off and repeated his question.  
"Sorry England, It's not him." England swore, covering his eyes with a hand. "I'm sure you'll find him eventually, you just have to be patient."  
"Encase you haven't noticed, Hungary, more and more people are dying each day to this blasted flu."  
"England, no need to be so cranky!" America whacked the back of his head.  
"Why you-" England said, rubbing his head. Hungary rolled her eyes as they began to argue, watching England tackle America to the ground.  
"Hmm… How well-situated this position is." Both England and America stared at her.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Oh, nothing! I was just thinking." She smirked and waved goodbye as they straightened themselves out.


	3. France, meet Boomer Boomer, meet France

"I'm sure he's still alive." France muttered, stroking Seychelles' head. "Canada's smart." He was more trying to convince himself of that fact. After the wall collapsed, cutting them off from Canada, he'd been more worried than Seychelles. She'd already saved him from a hunter twice- the **same** hunter, twice, before they'd reached the safe house. Or, at least the street it was located on.

"Y-yea... Canada's really smart..." She nodded, looking around a corner with a mirror attached to a wire coat hanger. "Ah.. F-France, there's a Boomer down here..." She whispered, looking towards him. "Should we find another route?" France looked into the mirror, seeing both the Boomer and the safe house door at once.

"I don't think we can make it if we have to go another way..." He muttered, checking his weapon. He was almost out of rounds, and the axe he found a few miles back was split down the handle. "We'll have to find a way to get rid of it." Looking around, France noticed a trellis clinging to the wall of a house. "Let's try climbing to the top there."

The duo slipped through the rusted gate into a garden, scaling the trellis slowly. A thorn cut into France's hand. He winced, reaching up for another hold. Seychelles climbed over the roof first, holding a hand to pull France over.

"I feel so old..." He sighed, rubbing his back and stretching. Never in so long had he felt as bad as he did then. The hunter attacks earlier hadn't done more than tear through his shirt and coat, and the worst had been a few light scratches, but they stung now. His eyes felt heavy, and he was almost tempted to stretch out on the roof and sleep under the warm sun, but considering the state of the current world, it wasn't much a plan with sense.

There were always sleeping bags waiting in the safe rooms, and as soon as they cleared the Boomer, it was good for them. "Where'd the monster go...?" Checking his magnum, France clung to the roof and inched forward, searching for the Boomer. He could make out its trademark gurgling before he could see it. 'Must be just under here...'

His head peeked over the roof and met the glowing yellow eyes of the very creature he'd meant to destroy. With a growl, the Boomer took a breath. France pulled back just in time to miss the fountain of green goo directly, only gaining a few more stains to his pants and shoes at the splash. Moments after France scrambled to his feet with the help of Seychelles, the Boomer pulled its head over the side of the roof and opened its mouth again.

Being as France was in front of Seychelles, she was sparred from the damage. France, however, was now thoroughly coated in the bile from his head down. Blinded, he was unable to aim correctly and hoped the shot would take the creature down, then they could climb back down and make a run for it beforehand the horde showed. Already sounds of their feet could be heard.

France shot several times, along with Seychelles until they were knocked off their feet by the blast from exploded Boomer.

As soon as the bile's blinding effect wore off, France and Seychelles were off, rapidly approaching the safe house. Looking back, zombies were beginning to appear. "Down here!" They both climbed off the roof and onto a shorter building, then onto a dumpster by the wall. "Go, go, go!" Feet away from the door. Just feet away. Seychelles reached the door first, gesturing wildly with her hand for him to hurry up.

"Hungry, I doubt they were doing anything inappropriate." Austria stated calmly as he wiped off his glasses with a clean rag.

"But England was limping! And the way they were crawling all over each other-"

"You mean, the way they were trying to kill each other?" Austria cut in, raising an eye as the sparkles that seemed to radiate from Hungary's own set.

"It's not murder, it's love! I know it is!" She sighed then, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck. Before she could go off in another long drawn-out explanation of their 'love', he decided it would be best to change the subject.

"Hungary, why don't you introduce me to our new survivor?" he suggested. It wouldn't hurt to get to know him, after all. Hungary agreed quickly, pulling him to his feet. Austria nearly stumbled, keeping his balance as he was led through camp.

"Hungary, I do know the way on my own... You don't need to lead me so." he sighed.


End file.
